11 / Undercover Brothers
Bond felt more at ease that night, since he now knew Le Chiffre's tell. The first two hours of the game had gone by as normal as possible. When they started closing on the night's stopping point, Le Chiffre seemed to fold more, almost as if he was waiting for Bond to rack up a large amount of money.
Leiter watched him, almost like he was watching Bond's technique.
It was the last hand of the night, Bond had two hundred thousand, so did Le Chiffre. Bond's hand looked good—two kings, with a third up in the river. His only problem was aces, and two were unaccounted for. Fukutuk folded, as did the woman next to him. Leiter was the next one to fold, leaving only Bond and Le Chiffre.
Le Chiffre rubbed at his temple, the signature of his tell. Bond pushed all his chips forward. "All in," he said. In order to call, Le Chiffre also had to go all in, and Bond was ahead by two million dollars. There was sixty million in the pot. Le Chiffre called, and put his twelve million in alongside Bond's.
"Cards, gentlemen?" the dealer asked. Bond put his two other kings down. He smiled, but then Le Chiffre coughed out a dry laugh. He laid down the other two aces. "Four aces. Mr. Le Chiffre wins." Bond's eyes widened as Le Chiffre collected his winnings.
Bond stood up and walked away from the table. Le Chiffre was still smiling the last he saw the man. He never wanted to see that face again, especially not that smile.
111
Bond stood on the balcony that overlooked the dining room. Le Chiffre was having a triumphant dinner with an older man who had gray hair, a man in a business suit who had the kind of tan you got from South America, and Valenka. They were laughing, all happy.
The sound of high heels on the polished floor came from behind him. He turned and saw Vesper standing there, wrapping herself in her stole. "James?" she said, quietly.
He turned away from her and looked back down at the Le Chiffre and his group. "I'm going to need the other five million."
She stood right beside him, gazing at the sky. "No."
"No?"
"No, James. I'm sorry."
Outraged, Bond turned to her. "Sorry? Sorry?" He grabbed her by the shoulders. "Do you mind putting that in a sentence, like, 'Sorry, Le Chiffre's gonna win and continue funding terrorists with our country's money'? That kind of sorry?"
She stared him right in the eyes. "You lost because of your ego. And now, that same ego can't take it. I won't help you lose even more."
"Well then you're an idiot."
"What?"
" I said you're a bloody idiot!" he shouted, causing others to turn their way. To them, he must have looked like he was going to strike her. He simply let her go and walked away.
111
Bond walked up to the bar and sat there, waiting for the bartender to finish up with the other customers. When he approached, Bond said, "Vodka martini."
"Shaken or stirred?" the bartender asked.
Bond looked him square in the eyes and said, "Do I look like I give a damn?"
As the bartender slid away to fix the drink, Bond caught sight of Le Chiffre and his friends, walking through the dining hall. He scowled at the look of pure bliss on Le Chiffre's face. Le Chiffre knew he was free, and that MI6 could do nothing about him or his friends now.
That anger spiked, especially when he saw the unattended knife on the table closest to him. He grabbed it, kept it hidden, then quickly tried to catch up to Le Chiffre. On his way, he passed Mathis. Quickly, he said, "Get the girl out," to Mathis' shocked face. Le Chiffre and his group descended a flight of stairs, and just as Bond was about to, Leiter stepped in front of him and stopped him.
"What're you doing with that?" he asked, glancing ever so quickly at the knife in Bond's hand.
"Who are you?"
" I figured I should introduce myself, seeing as we're related. Felix Leiter, a brother from Langley." Bond's eyes widened. So the CIA was involved. The information packet had only hinted at it as a possibility. "I wouldn't do that, if I were you. You keep your head in the game, I think you have a chance to beat him."
"Had . I lost."
"You're not buying in?"
Bond's lip twitched. "No."
Leiter carefully pulled the knife from Bond's hand. "Look, I'm almost out. I'm bleeding chips. I think you've got a shot, so I'll stake you. But, this is on one condition. You beat him, let the CIA bring him in."
"I'm not sure how my superiors will respond to this."
"My boss already talked it over with M, the game's on."
Bond was impressed. Clearly, his American counterpart had everything well in hand. And here I am almost ready to kill Le Chiffre just because Vesper won't give me any money. "Fine. What about the winnings?"
Leiter smiled. "Does it look like we need the money?"
111
Le Chiffre sorted out his chips and set them into the stacks they belonged. He wasn't paying much attention when someone placed a stack of five million dollars down across from him, where Bond had previously been sitting. When he looked up, Bond was standing there. "Shall we up the blinds?" the British agent asked.
He didn't know how Bond had done it, but he was back, though now his tell trick wouldn't work as it did before. That was unfortunate. "Why not?" he said to his only real competition.
